


Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago.

by Spac3Godzillas



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spac3Godzillas/pseuds/Spac3Godzillas
Summary: After successfully doing the very least in order to stop the apocalypse, Crowley decides he needs a change and enlists a certain Angel to help.





	Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Is the grammar bad- yes, Is it out of character- perhaps, but y'know what it's mcfrickin cute. 
> 
> Sidenote as someone who has accidentally dyed their hair green it is a hellish experience, so take note and don't do that. Also, I thought of this while dying my hair again because I don't learn lessons from my mistakes. 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/17qSO0k6ChZn9bx1z5Td60?si=hJm2Z-1zSySgEOMVfyPmNw

Fraternising with and eventually, although admittedly unintentionally, befriending the enemy was one thing, agreeing to dye their hair was another.

 

Truthfully Aziraphale didn’t really know why he had agreed to dye the demon's hair, he’d certainly never done it before so there was some confusion as to why he had been asked in the first place. Upon arriving at Crowley’s gloomy apartment building, taking the elevator, which was conveniently empty and waiting for him upon his arrival, and walking himself to Crowley’s front door. Aziraphale realised that it was entirely possible that he hadn’t agreed to come all this way only to do a favour for Crowley, but that he had done so based on the fact that it was an opportunity to see the demon again. After all, he did have to admit that he enjoyed Crowley’s company as well as the comfort provided through their new agreement; that they were on _Their Side_ as Crowley had phrased it, so it only seemed logical that they stick together. Abruptly he realised that he was yet to ring the doorbell. He did so, being greeted seconds later by Crowley. Dressed in casual clothes that Aziraphale wouldn’t have expected him to own, never mind wear, with his hair damp, and a towel slung around his narrow shoulders.

‘Are you going to come in or just stand there?’ 

Aziraphale awkwardly shuffled past Crowley to stand in the dark entryway as the demon closed the door behind him. He’d been in Crowley’s apartment very few times before, the most recent being the evening of the day on which the world was supposed to end or at least fall into dismay. That night they’d spent most of their time sitting in the living room, with countless empty bottles surrounding them as they made an attempt to use what seemed to be Agnes Nutter’s last surviving prophecy to come up with a plan to save themselves. Being in the apartment now was different, it was a lot calmer for a start, less chaotic although not completely devoid of chaos; Crowley tended to bring a little of that wherever he went. The thing Aziraphale noticed most we the lack of urgency. For the past 6,000 years, there had always been something that needed to be done, miracles to perform, people to thwart. He and Crowley now had something they hadn’t truly experienced before; freedom. They now had not only the time, but the freedom to do what they wanted whenever they wanted. They presumed they would be ignored for at least a few decades based on the notion that those above and below believed that the pair had gone rogue.  

Crowley lightly placed a hand on his shoulder, which Aziraphale resisted the urge to place his own hand atop of. ‘I already bought the dye so there’s no need to go out if that’s what you’re thinking. And the instructions said to wash and towel dry my hair so I did. I would have dyed it myself but I wasn’t quite sure how well it would turn out.’ He muttered the last part as though making an excuse that even he wasn’t sure was convincing enough.

‘Oh, that’s good then. I was worried we’d have to go back out, it’s gotten rather cloudy the past little while, I’m sure it’s going to rain.’ Aziraphale smiled,  ‘Besides it’s no bother. It’s not like I have any other pressing matters to attend to given the circumstances.’

‘Ah, yes. Gone native, defected, gone off the rails, how fun. I’d almost forgotten this morning, no more evil deeds to do.’ Crowley smiled in return before moving past Aziraphale and further into his flat. ‘Anyway, even if you still ought to thwart at least you don’t have to go far.’

‘I guess so,’ he said as he followed Crowley through the flat to the sitting room, which intentionally matched the dreary atmosphere in aesthetic, but admittedly it was difficult for a space inhabited by anyone to feel entirely unwelcoming.

‘It’s probably better if we do this in the bathroom, easier to clean any mess that way,’ Crowley said handing Aziraphale a small packet containing a pair of clear plastic gloves. ‘It came with these, guessing it’s so you don’t dye your hands.’

‘Well if that happens I could just…’

‘Miracle it away, yes, yes, I know but where’s the fun in that.’ Aziraphale silenced, agreeing to an extent that yes, it wouldn’t be the same if he were to just use some form of magic to fix such a small problem. He followed Crowley further into the flat, and into the bathroom where the demon perched himself on the edge of the bath before picking up the small box of dye that he’d left there earlier. ‘You have to mix these then shake it, that's what the instructions say and then I guess you just apply it.’

‘Guessing probably isn’t the best thing to do when it comes to this, Crowley,’ Aziraphale warned as he began applying the dye, alternating between applying it with his hands and a brush which had conveniently appeared through no miracle of his own. It wasn’t too difficult, Aziraphale had found, however, it was becoming increasingly inconvenient that Crowley lacked the ability to sit still. Gesturing wildly he would occasionally lean away from Aziraphale as he attempted to brush the dye onto his hair. This was now the third time that he had done so, waving his arms as he emphasised his point, this time almost knocking the bottle of dye from Aziraphale’s hand.  
  
‘Would you please sit still Crowley! This is ridiculous, you may once have been a serpent but you aren't anymore, so stop wriggling around.’ Said Aziraphale, raising his voice ever so slightly, as he attempted to get Crowley to stop moving his head and flailing his arms so that he could finish dying his hair. The suddenness of Aziraphale's  outburst had caused Crowley to startle slightly, which he recovered from before slumping and letting out a dramatic sigh, ‘And don’t start huffing, or who knows what colour your hair will end up.’   
  
‘You wouldn’t!’ Crowley gasped, partially exaggerated, before deciding that it would be for the best if he were to sit a little stiller, ‘You don’t have it in you to be so cruel.’  
  
‘Oh don’t I, Dear?’Aziraphale stopped what he was doing abruptly, causing Crowley to fear for the future of his hair. ‘Besides this is rather unnecessary, after all, you could have just willed your hair a different colour. Why choose to take the human approach?’

‘Suppose I want to know what all the fuss was about. You see a lot of people hanging around with their hair dyed in bizarre ways, I hadn’t suspected that it would take this long.’ he shrugged, before remembering Aziraphale’s threat.

‘You’re subjecting yourself to this because you’ve seen that humans do it?’ Aziraphale wrinkled his nose as he continued adding the thick dye to Crowley’s hair. ‘Seem’s awfully unlike you. You’ve been sure to keep your hair the same colour since the beginning and humans have been dying theirs for quite some time, so why now? Why not the 80s or 90s? You seemed to really enjoy fitting in then’

Crowley cut him off, ‘Why not now, Angel? The world almost ended, we could have truly played our part in starting Armageddon, and then we would certainly be in a very different situation.’

The Angel quietened momentarily, a stuffy silence filling the small space surrounding them, ‘I hadn’t thought of it in that regard, your hair that is, not the other thing. That I think about a lot. The apocalypse, well the almost apocalypse. What it was actually about, both sides were truly willing to condemn humanity. The ones I thought we were meant to protect from your lot. And over what?’ 

‘Careful Angel, they don’t take kindly to criticism or questions. You’ll be crashing down before you know it if you keep it up.’ Crowley said quietly as he stared down at his hands in order to avoid making eye contact with Aziraphale, who had now put down the hair dye and brush and was removing the gloves. Deciding that he had coated Crowley’s hair with what he at least considered to be the correct amount of dye.

Aziraphale carefully took Crowley’s hands in his. They were warm which surprised him. Crowley naturally ran on the colder side. They sat in silence once again, neither of them wanting or daring to break it. Though eventually, Crowley spoke up, ‘I’m almost certain that I’m glad the world didn’t end.’ he said, looking up at Aziraphale with a smile, ‘Because who else would have dyed my hair?’

 

***

 

‘Crowley, is it mean to be this… bright?’

‘It can’t be that bad, let me see.’ Crowley stood from where he had been leaning over the bathtub as Aziraphale rinsed his hair, ‘Oh.’ He’d caught sight of himself in the small mirror above the sink as he did so.

They both stared at each other and more importantly Crowley’s now moderately lighted hair in the mirror, ‘It’s practically yellow, my Dear.’   
  


‘Well, it certainly wasn’t this colour on the box. I’m not quite sure what happened.’ Crowley said turning away from the mirror, slightly annoyed.  
  


‘You were trying to dye it blonde after all. This isn’t too far off just a bit brighter.’ Aziraphale said,  ‘I thought you rather suited the colour you had.’  
  


‘Did I? Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ Crowley grumbled, ignoring the first part of what Aziraphale had said, turning back to stare at his reflection, in particular, his hair.  


‘I was only trying to be nice. Why don’t you just miracle it back.’ suggested Aziraphale, ‘I could always miracle it if you want?’ As he placed a towel on Crowley’s head, covering his hair as he nodded. Aziraphale smiled slightly, snapping his finger as he raised his hands to pull the towel back off Croley’s hair to reveal it back to the vibrant red that it had been for many years before. Back to the colour they both thought suited him maybe a little too much. But most importantly back to the sense of familiarity they shared.


End file.
